The Night That Changed Everything

Meher Sharma had always believed in saving lives.

It was what made her push through the long shifts, sleepless nights, and endless studying. Being a doctor wasn’t just her career—it was her identity. But that night, she unknowingly saved the wrong person.

The hospital was quieter than usual, the low hum of machines blending with the occasional shuffle of nurses moving in the hallways. It was past midnight, and Meher was the only doctor on duty. She stretched her arms, trying to shake off the exhaustion.

"Another all-nighter. At least I can get some chai later." She thought to herself.

But the calm didn’t last.

The doors to the emergency ward slammed open, and three tall men dressed in black stormed in.

One of them was carrying a woman in his arms.

Blood dripped onto the white hospital floor, leaving a dark crimson trail.

"Gunshot wound." Meher realized instantly.

The woman’s breathing was shallow, her black suit soaked in blood. Even through the pain, she held an unshakable aura—as if she were used to moments like these. Her cold, emotionless dark brown eyes flickered up to Meher, sending an unexplainable shiver down her spine.

"Who is she?" Meher thought.

One of the men—clearly a bodyguard—grabbed Meher’s wrist tightly.

“Save her. Or you won’t live to see another sunrise.” His voice was sharp, dangerous.

Meher wasn’t the type to be scared easily, but something about them felt... off. These weren’t just rich, powerful people.

They were something else.

And then Meher saw the golden emblem stitched onto the injured woman’s sleeve.

A tiger insignia.

Her blood ran cold.

"Rathore."

She had heard the name before. Everyone had. It was the name whispered in fear, the name that controlled the underworld. The Rathore sisters were known for their ruthlessness, power, and absolute dominance.

And Meher had just been thrown into their world.

The Operation

Meher had no time to think. The woman was losing too much blood.

“Get her to the operation room, now!” she ordered, pulling her wrist free and rushing to grab her gloves.

Her nurses hesitated, fear clear in their eyes. They weren’t used to treating criminals.

“Move! She’ll die if we don’t act fast!” Meher snapped, forcing them into action.

The next two hours were a blur of stitches, transfusions, and tension. Every second, Meher felt the weight of those dangerous men watching her every move.

Finally, as she tied the last stitch, she let out a slow breath.

“She’s stable,” Meher said, pushing her hair back. “But she needs rest. No sudden movements.”

The moment she stepped away from the table, one of the men pulled out a phone.

“She’s alive,” he muttered. “Tell the boss.”

The boss? Meher frowned. Aren't they already working for the Rathores?

Her question was answered minutes later.

The doors burst open again, and this time, a woman walked in.

Meher instantly recognized her from news articles.

Vaidehi Rathore.

Where Aaravi was cold and unreadable, Vaidehi was unpredictable, explosive, and dangerously obsessive.

She walked straight to the operation table, her heels clicking against the floor, and crouched beside the unconscious woman.

“Didi…” she whispered, brushing Aaravi’s hair back.

"Didi."

Meher blinked.

They’re sisters?

Of course, she had heard rumors about them—the twin queens of the underworld. But seeing them in real life was something else.

Then, Vaidehi’s gaze snapped to Meher.

Meher froze.

There was something unsettling about her stare—like a predator studying prey.

“You saved her,” Vaidehi murmured.

Meher swallowed, nodding. “It’s my job.”

A slow smile curled on Vaidehi’s lips.

“That means she belongs to you now.”

Meher frowned. “Excuse me?”

Vaidehi stepped closer, the sweet yet deadly look never leaving her face.

“Didi only trusts people who save her life,” she said softly. “And I trust her judgment.”

Meher didn’t like the sound of that.

“I did my duty as a doctor,” she said firmly. “That’s it.”

Vaidehi tilted her head, her expression unreadable.

“You don’t understand, do you?” she whispered, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind Meher’s ear.

Meher’s body tensed.

“You saved her. That means you are ours now.”

Meher took a step back.

“I— I don’t belong to anyone.”

Vaidehi just laughed. A soft, dangerous laugh.

“Not yet, sweetheart.”

The Deal

Aaravi stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open for a brief second.

“Vaidehi…” she whispered weakly.

Vaidehi immediately turned her attention back to her sister. “I’m here, Didi. Rest.”

Meher took the chance to quietly move away.

She needed to leave.

She needed to get far, far away from these women.

But the moment she stepped toward the exit, a bodyguard blocked her way.

Vaidehi glanced over her shoulder.

“Leaving already, Dr. Meher?” she asked sweetly.

Meher’s heartbeat quickened.

“I— I have other patients to see,” she said, keeping her voice steady.

Vaidehi hummed, stepping closer again.

“Let’s make a deal,” she said, eyes gleaming with something dark.

“You stay with us for one month. Help my sister recover. And in return…”

She leaned in, her lips almost brushing Meher’s ear.

“We won’t make your family disappear.”

Meher’s breath hitched.

Her hands clenched into fists.

"You wouldn't dare—"

Vaidehi smirked. "Oh, sweetheart. We own this city. We can do whatever we want."

Aaravi, still weak but alert, finally spoke.

“Vaidehi, stop.” Her voice was rough, but it held authority.

Vaidehi pouted slightly but obeyed.

Aaravi turned her sharp eyes to Meher.

“One month, Doctor. Stay with us until I recover. Then you’re free.”

Meher hesitated. She didn’t trust them.

But she had no choice.

“Fine,” she whispered.

Vaidehi grinned.

"Welcome to the family, Meher."

Meher’s fate was sealed.

And she had no idea what she had just walked into.

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To be continued

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